The performer enters the online meeting and immediately begins an apology. “Apologies for the delay!” she states, appearing truly regretful. Although she's only a couple of minutes behind, she feels compelled to clarify. “I tend to talk too much during calls. I had two calls before this, and I’m like, I’ve gotta stop talking!” Thankfully, in this context, this is exactly what you want to experience. Moreover, it’s fairly predictable. Viewers who know the boldly queer and unapologetically crass movie Bottoms—which she penned with Emma Seligman and appeared in with her friend Ayo Edebiri—would understand that she holds much to say, be it on gender, relationships, or the pros of starting a high-school brawl society. Plus, once you finish the latest eight-part HBO series I Love LA, it becomes obvious that the star has further insights on the struggles of Gen Z life (At 30, Sennott is a relatable figure for this generation, on the cusp with a knack for bridging different age groups).
Influences and Creative Vision
The comparisons to the iconic series Girls are inevitable and the actress admits to being an admirer, naming the show together with the classic series, Insecure and the innovative program as guides for the project, which follows the journey of a social media star Tallulah and ally and new agent Sennott’s character. However, the most significant presence on the moodboard was reserved for the popular sitcom, the show focusing on an emerging A-list actor succeeding in a corrupt LA scene (memorable line: “only the unsuccessful find joy here”). Sennott discovered it during lockdown, became “hooked”, and decided to create a new version on it “with female and queer audiences in mind”.
“I wanted to make a show where the internet, not Hollywood, was the industry, because my career started online,” she explains. The concept for I Love LA originated—partly—from firsthand, at first rocky, relocation to LA and from her astrological phase, a much-talked-about event for enthusiasts. This represented an era that saw her grasp some big insights, in her career and in private life. “During my younger years, I was chaotic, often breaking down in public,” she says. “After relocating to Los Angeles in my mid-twenties, I found stability, only for things to crumble. “The struggles felt almost mythic in scale…”
Starting Out
Brought up in New England, Sennott commenced creating and acting stand-up while pursuing theatre at New York University (NYU) Tisch School of the Arts. “I followed traditional paths to get on stage, but nothing clicked,” she explains. “Auditions for university comedy troupes led to universal rejection. “None of the university plays cast me either.” And I just felt like, what am I doing here?”
She decided to act independently, taking the stage at live shows with Ayo and posting hysterical (and decidedly) weird comedy videos online. One, Baby Cult, depicted several females obsessively drawn to motherhood; another envisioned being employed at a trendy retail outlet as similar to being caught in a scary movie. In a neat twist of fate, she encountered Emma through the university’s film scene and eventually featuring in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby, a tense comedy set at a religious event with echoes of Uncut Gems. The central motif of her journey, she explains, has been peers supporting her, as opposed to traditional networks. So, not the gatekeepers, then? “Not the gatekeepers”, she confirms, continuing humorously: “Our victory isn’t their goal.”
Career Breakthrough
Anyone who questioned about Sennott earlier will likely be kicking themselves now. Through she describes as a “wild, full-circle” development, she seems to have created the perfect project. In 2019 she shared a video called about Los Angeles online, in which she lampooned movie previews (“Everyone’s hooked on something”). Years later, she’s a lead creator (with her partner) of a comedy about LA residents balancing advantages of online celebrity (such as partying at a famous actor’s house) with drawbacks (your associate being accused of being a intoxicated criminal, and potentially becoming a unreliable persona non grata). It would be easy to create a series about online fame that was extremely glamorous—or, more problematic, one that mocked at those depicted. The series avoids both, creating a representation of advantaged young adult living that’s frank about the chaos and the glamour.
Nuanced Portrayal
“Numerous series present younger generations and digital culture in a derogatory manner,” she observes. “I think that young people have been through a lot – I’m mostly thinking of people younger than me, like my little sister, who went to college during Covid, so she had to come home, or my other sister who was doing school online.”|“The younger generation has faced significant
